Consoling Stance
by pleasesayitsnotso
Summary: One Shot: Set after episode 2x08 Spacewalker, Clarke struggles to come to grips with all that has come to pass, whilst a concerned Bellamy senses her internal struggle and so tries to comfort her in anyway he can. I'd really appreciate any feedback as this is the first time I've written these two characters, so please let me know what you think, thanks and enjoy.


_"Do not assume that he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, he would never have been able to find these words."_  
— _Rainer Maria Rilke_

* * *

Bellamy awoke with a heavy knot that lay uncomfortably in his gut, a burden he had felt ever since he saw Clarke relinquish Finn of the impending torture that he would have had to endure. He'd never felt like this, never felt the burden of someone else's decision, never shared the guilt and anguish of another, it unsettled him if he was honest. Despite this manifestation of torment he felt rather hollow, as if the agonising feeling of empathy resounded out echoing off of his insides and causing the sorrow to be even more excruciating. He felt it, he felt her. Unsettled he walked outside and noted that it was early dawn, the horizon was highlighted by a stripe of orange mist that merged up into a light azure that continued upwards amalgamating into the darkness that was once the night. Within the meagre light his gaze sought out the silhouette of an individual that was unmistakeably, her. She stood looking out to the horizon, her trademark blonde locks curling and furling in the breeze, her stance strong and resilient. But he knew better.

On approach, her gaze did not waver, almost as if she didn't know he was there, her perfectly clear sapphire eyes held a glassy sheen and exhibited no particular focus. He saw the redness that occupied her eyes, the drying tear tracks that were only just visible in the glint of the light, and the way her arms hung listlessly at her sides. It was then he looked at her hands, they were red raw, angry and sore looking. He felt his heart contract painfully so, at the thought of her aggressively wiping and rubbing her hands, sobbing, as she tried to abscond her hands and her mind of the act she had committed. Of the torturous grief that ripped at her insides, that taunted her and growled over and over,

_ m._

_ u._

_ r._

As her mind echoed hauntingly with the accusations and slander she showered herself with, she turned her head away from Bellamy, her eyes still fixed on the skyline. She thought of the boy she had fallen in love with, the spacewalker, the vibrant, courageous and virtuous being who had provided her with so much support, who'd been her salvation within the chaos. He had disappeared so slowly, it wasn't until it was too late she realised, his love for her had poisoned him, had ruined him, had killed him. Bellamy remained stood refusing to leave her alone, but also adamant on not smothering her, he wanted to just be there for her, and so he was momentarily startled when amongst the stark silence her voice broke through, flat and void,

"What happened to him Bellamy? That person... That wasn't Finn. Not the Finn I..." Her head lowered bringing with it her piercing gaze and the defiant stance she had held,

"... knew." In the slow emerging light of the dawn Bellamy could now see the scars that adorned her once flawless skin, the scars that everyone seemed to bore now bonding them together in a union of survival and fight. The battle wounds of the ground, the inflictions that ran so much deeper, that healed slower, that hurt so much more. His voice was strong and steady, but held slight warmth in order to provide comfort, a rarity from Bellamy,

"Love can do that; it can make you or break you. It can cause you to make choices, do things, you never would have before." At that she turned her head swiftly back at him, her grief had now tainted her beautiful features as they spoiled in sorrow, her eyes glistening with the threatening spill of tears, her voice oozed desperation and anguish,

"His feelings for me made him overlook every moral he ever held... that's... that's wrong!" Her eyes could no longer hold back the quell of tears, as one escaped it's reins trickling down her cheek, inducing a pain to radiate bewilderingly across Bellamy's chest and causing him to immediately step closer to her, his voice yearning to console her,

"Hey don't blame yourself for this he made his own decisions. We warned him of the consequences, but he still made those choices." At that the little composure that she had held dissipated as her features contorted forcefully into an expression of unadulterated torment and despair, her eyes filled with blind fury as more tears fell, her voice was harsh, gravelly and raw against the stillness of the dawn as she growled,

"He made _those choices_ for **ME**! Those people _died_ in **my name**, **for me**... **How could he put that on me?!**" Without realising it Bellamy had stepped forwards, his arms unknowingly opened slightly inviting her to the relief his embrace could bestow that his words could not. Falling into his arms, her own wrapped desperately around his neck, as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, allowing her to revel in his warmth and drown in the scent that was undeniably him, that was oh so comforting and familiar. His own arms wrapped around her waist, his hands clasping hold of her, refusing to let the wave of bereavement to consume her, to injure her even more than she had been. As his embrace absorbed the sobs that wracked her body so violently, one of his hands skated up her back before reaching the back of her head, his fingers satisfied by the feel of her tousled locks, as he cradled her close to him. His eyes were ripped from their gaze on her by the first blinding appearance of the sun over the horizon, his eyes squinted painfully so at the prospect of a new day, new battles, and new demons. With that thought his arms tightened around her pulling her closer to his body, trying so hard to protect her from the conflict of the future, of the world they still knew so little of. From the unaccustomed chasms of his heart, he procured the only few words he thought could provide any support, to the girl he had unwillingly become so fond of,

**_"Clarke... I'm so sorry."_**


End file.
